a speedwrite about soup and lettuce
by Nicky Goodman
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Rated "G" by the Author.
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one of yesterday's poems, editing, not sure of a title yet...
poem from: a speedwrite about soup and lettuce
On the black volcanic sand it rained
On the Sahara white, the sky fell down
Yet not one grain soaked, no muddy ground
To tell of footprints under nomad's moon
Swept by a roaring lions breath
Arranging landscape, valley and dune.
Snake tracks vanishing letters spun,
Lizard feet wisp, quick as slithering tongue.
It rained one month the sky fell down,
Yet not one grain soaked, no cactus cup
To catch one drop, condensed or not.
This silent irrigation, barefoot trod
The red hot shifting map, made dust
From lava turned stone for breathing air.
And there, woman and baby, both so close to death,
Cracked lips - how she longed for a taste of mud,
Drained of every moisture bead, skin seamed,
Rack of ribs, creaking bones, walked - one step,
One step, under a clear sky's fallen autograph,
Her baby held close by a fading scarf
Made long ago by Grandmother's hand,
A vision: knitting, the cemetery at Hoop Lane,
A grounds man by a wheelbarrow, smoking in the rain,
A memory plate of cut up fruit, eaten secretly at night
Quietly in her tiny room surely kept them still alive
Walking through the blazing sun, so parched,
So close to death, not one more step to take: A mirage:
Dreams of lettuce, sprouting from the sand
Until unsure of truth or lie, oasis, sea or land,
One half coconut shell, she did spy,
A few yards off in shimmering heat of light.
Her sister's voice screamed from another land,
"Walk! I've cried every tear this desert lost
And have tried to stop the endless flood
For one half-filled shell of coconut.."
Then, like magic, there it was - soup in the sand,
And story told to children at a school:
A woman and baby so very close to death
Are walking through desert isopleths
And find a coconut shell half filled up,
What should she do with this soup in a cup?
"Feed it all to the baby with her fingertips, Miss?"
Is the innocent answer from a sweet child's lips.
So the woman takes the shell in her careful hand...
What did she do with the soup, found there in the sand?
1 : an isoline on a graph showing the occurrence or frequency of a phenomenon as a function of two variables
2 : a line on a map connecting points at which a given variable has a specified constant value
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|Reviewed by Charlie
|Lady and the Tiger ending. Strong Sustained Imagery throughout. An occasional line break would be easier on the eyes, but I think this is better, because it gives a sense of the constant search for the end. Eyes get hot in all that black forest of ink, and her head gets hot--her lips and cheeks burn... it works.
Ideas for a title: Soup in the Sand; Isopleths; A Babe, a Mother and a Coconut Cup... lots of possibilities. I know you'll think of something great. --Charlie
|Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
|I felt like I had had an acid flashback as I read this one . . . Gotta love it . . . WoW!!!! . . .|
|Reviewed by Susan de Vegter
|Very very good poem. I learned so very much from this legend. may you give us more.
Blessings and love,
|Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner
Your mind -! Creative genius in beautifully imaged lines - delicious!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
|Reviewed by Felix Perry
|Interesting and quite a spin on this topic with images that grip the readers attention.
|Reviewed by E T Waldron
|Unique poem,I would love to sit with you and discuss what brought such thoughts to your mind;-)One to ponder...
The pic of dove is a wring necked ,and I had one like it for a pet for several years. yes they can be very feisty!;-) Supposedly the white dove as it is always portrayed is one of gentleness and love,easy for poets to use;-)